Cowboy Finds Reason To Give
Thanks, Even In Rotten Month

By Curt Brummett

Well, folks, on a scale of one to 10, the month of November started out at a minus 25 and didn't even get to a plus three 'til around Thanksgiving.

It started out with one of my better colts dying on me. It was just one of those things, but it sure set a pattern for the rest of the month.

The first weekend of November, I went to George West to the story-telling festival. I went a day early so I could share an early combined birthday dinner with a friend of mine. His birthday is on the tenth and mine is on the seventeenth. I ended up getting an invite to speak at a school on the next Monday, and things was looking semi-decent again.

At George West, I had a pretty good time. I got to visit with some friends I hadn't seen in quite a while and figured I would stay over a day or two to visit.

I went back to Nursery and spent Sunday night with Rusty and got caught up on all the local gossip around town as well as at the Watering Hole. I figured I would speak at the school on Monday and head back to East Texas early Tuesday morning.

Seems like figuring just doesn't work for me all that much.

I called my partner to see if there was anything important going on and, sure nuff, there was.

He said I needed to get back, that there had been a little trouble at my place. He had just found out about it that afternoon and had been trying to call me.

Seems as though a couple of two-bit low-lifes thought they wanted some of my things a little more than I did.

I finished up some business in Victoria and headed back home.

Sometime Sunday night, someone stole my two-horse trailer, a TV, VCR, and some bits that are older than me. They also killed all three of my cow dogs. My partner had fed about four Sunday afternoon and had gone back at about the same time Monday.

Talk about depressed. The trailer could be replaced, I was really fond of the dogs, but the bits were worth more to me than all of the timber in East Texas.

I told the police that I hoped the thieves tried to use that VCR. If you didn't put the tape in just right, it would shock the hell out of you.

Well, I worked my birthday (turned 50).

I figured the way things had gone so far, I had better not push my luck. So I took it pretty easy. I took myself out to an all-you-can-eat seafood place, then proceeded to have a toddy or two.

I hate all of these trees up here. That night I dreamed I bought a chainsaw that had a 42-foot blade on it and I started clearing out the forest. When I woke up, my knife blade was broke and the headboard was whittled to ribbons. I decided not to have more than two toddies ever again.

Thanksgiving came on time and I had invited a few people over for smoked turkey, cabrito and whatever else they wanted to add to the menu.

I started cooking about six that morning, and things were looking up. The lady and her son from down the road brought some giblet gravy, dressing and cranberry sauce. Ronnie and his wife brought some candied yams and she fixed me a bowl of potato salad. Both ladies brought a couple of pies.

In spite of the way things had been, this day was making up for it. Then it happened.

We were just sitting down to dinner when a deputy pulled into the driveway. He got out carrying a box. In the box was my bits. The headstall and reins were all gone, but the bits were in perfect condition. I got plumb excited.

The deputy explained that early that morning, there had been a report of a pickup turned over on a FM road and he had gone to check it out.

There wasn't anyone in it, but there were my bits. The police didn't have any idea who it was, where they had come from or where they had gone. But the deputy had been the one to investigate my theft problem and he recognized the bits.

My Thanksgiving was a way-yonder better.

I was thankful I had made it to 50, could still walk (although at times, not just real good), and that I had my bits back. Not to mention having some pretty good friends.

I don't wish the sorry S.O.B.s, any bad luck. I just hope they survived the wreck so they could get into another one — one where they get both legs, both arms, and their jaws broke. Not to mention get all of their teeth knocked out. I hope they have to be fed soup — really rich soup — through a straw. Then I hope they get the itch.

The way Thanksgiving day turned out, the rest of the month was a piece of cake. On a scale of one to 10, even with a start of minus 25, the month ended up at a plus 15.

I truly hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving. Except for just a couple.